| ACT I SCENE II | London. An apartment of the Prince's. | |
| | Enter the PRINCE OF WALES and FALSTAFF | |
| FALSTAFF | Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? | |
| PRINCE HENRY | Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack | |
| | and unbuttoning thee after supper and sleeping upon | |
| | benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to | 5 |
| | demand that truly which thou wouldst truly know. | |
| | What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the | |
| | day? Unless hours were cups of sack and minutes | |
| | capons and clocks the tongues of bawds and dials the | |
| | signs of leaping-houses and the blessed sun himself | 10 |
| | a fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta, I see no | |
| | reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand | |
| | the time of the day. | |
| FALSTAFF | Indeed, you come near me now, Hal; for we that take | |
| | purses go by the moon and the seven stars, and not | 15 |
| | by Phoebus, he,'that wandering knight so fair.' And, | |
| | I prithee, sweet wag, when thou art king, as, God | |
| | save thy grace,--majesty I should say, for grace | |
| | thou wilt have none,-- | |
| PRINCE HENRY | What, none? | 20 |
| FALSTAFF | No, by my troth, not so much as will serve to | |
| | prologue to an egg and butter. | |
| PRINCE HENRY | Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly. | |
| FALSTAFF | Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not | |
| | us that are squires of the night's body be called | 25 |
| | thieves of the day's beauty: let us be Diana's | |
| | foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the | |
| | moon; and let men say we be men of good government, | |
| | being governed, as the sea is, by our noble and | |
| | chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal. | 30 |
| PRINCE HENRY | Thou sayest well, and it holds well too; for the | |
| | fortune of us that are the moon's men doth ebb and | |
| | flow like the sea, being governed, as the sea is, | |
| | by the moon. As, for proof, now: a purse of gold | |
| | most resolutely snatched on Monday night and most | 35 |
| | dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with | |
| | swearing 'Lay by' and spent with crying 'Bring in;' | |
| | now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder | |
| | and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows. | |
| FALSTAFF | By the Lord, thou sayest true, lad. And is not my | 40 |
| | hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench? | |
| PRINCE HENRY | As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And | |
| | is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance? | |
| FALSTAFF | How now, how now, mad wag! what, in thy quips and | |
| | thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a | 45 |
| | buff jerkin? | |
| PRINCE HENRY | Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern? | |
| FALSTAFF | Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a | |
| | time and oft. | |
| PRINCE HENRY | Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? | 50 |
| FALSTAFF | No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there. | |
| PRINCE HENRY | Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; | |
| | and where it would not, I have used my credit. | |
| FALSTAFF | Yea, and so used it that were it not here apparent | |
| | that thou art heir apparent--But, I prithee, sweet | 55 |
| | wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when | |
| | thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is | |
| | with the rusty curb of old father antic the law? Do | |
| | not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief. | |
| PRINCE HENRY | No; thou shalt. | 60 |
| FALSTAFF | Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge. | |
| PRINCE HENRY | Thou judgest false already: I mean, thou shalt have | |
| | the hanging of the thieves and so become a rare hangman. | |
| FALSTAFF | Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my | |
| | humour as well as waiting in the court, I can tell | 65 |
| | you. | |
| PRINCE HENRY | For obtaining of suits? | |
| FALSTAFF | Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman | |
| | hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy | |
| | as a gib cat or a lugged bear. | 70 |
| PRINCE HENRY | Or an old lion, or a lover's lute. | |
| FALSTAFF | Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. | |
| PRINCE HENRY | What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of | |
| | Moor-ditch? | |
| FALSTAFF | Thou hast the most unsavoury similes and art indeed | 75 |
| | the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young | |
| | prince. But, Hal, I prithee, trouble me no more | |
| | with vanity. I would to God thou and I knew where a | |
| | commodity of good names were to be bought. An old | |
| | lord of the council rated me the other day in the | 80 |
| | street about you, sir, but I marked him not; and yet | |
| | he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not; and | |
| | yet he talked wisely, and in the street too. | |
| PRINCE HENRY | Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the | |
| | streets, and no man regards it. | 85 |
| FALSTAFF | O, thou hast damnable iteration and art indeed able | |
| | to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon | |
| | me, Hal; God forgive thee for it! Before I knew | |
| | thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man | |
| | should speak truly, little better than one of the | 90 |
| | wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give | |
| | it over: by the Lord, and I do not, I am a villain: | |
| | I'll be damned for never a king's son in | |
| | Christendom. | |
| PRINCE HENRY | Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack? | 95 |
| FALSTAFF | 'Zounds, where thou wilt, lad; I'll make one; an I | |
| | do not, call me villain and baffle me. | |
| PRINCE HENRY | I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying | |
| | to purse-taking. | |
| FALSTAFF | Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a | 100 |
| | man to labour in his vocation. | |
| | Enter POINS | |
| | Poins! Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a | |
| | match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what | |
| | hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the | |
| | most omnipotent villain that ever cried 'Stand' to | 105 |
| | a true man. | |
| PRINCE HENRY | Good morrow, Ned. | |
| POINS | Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monsieur Remorse? | |
| | what says Sir John Sack and Sugar? Jack! how | |
| | agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou | 110 |
| | soldest him on Good-Friday last for a cup of Madeira | |
| | and a cold capon's leg? | |
| PRINCE HENRY | Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have | |
| | his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of | |
| | proverbs: he will give the devil his due. | 115 |
| POINS | Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with the devil. | |
| PRINCE HENRY | Else he had been damned for cozening the devil. | |
| POINS | But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four | |
| | o'clock, early at Gadshill! there are pilgrims going | |
| | to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders | 120 |
| | riding to London with fat purses: I have vizards | |
| | for you all; you have horses for yourselves: | |
| | Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester: I have bespoke | |
| | supper to-morrow night in Eastcheap: we may do it | |
| | as secure as sleep. If you will go, I will stuff | 125 |
| | your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry | |
| | at home and be hanged. | |
| FALSTAFF | Hear ye, Yedward; if I tarry at home and go not, | |
| | I'll hang you for going. | |
| POINS | You will, chops? | 130 |
| FALSTAFF | Hal, wilt thou make one? | |
| PRINCE HENRY | Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith. | |
| FALSTAFF | There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good | |
| | fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood | |
| | royal, if thou darest not stand for ten shillings. | 135 |
| PRINCE HENRY | Well then, once in my days I'll be a madcap. | |
| FALSTAFF | Why, that's well said. | |
| PRINCE HENRY | Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home. | |
| FALSTAFF | By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king. | |
| PRINCE HENRY | I care not. | 140 |
| POINS | Sir John, I prithee, leave the prince and me alone: | |
| | I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure | |
| | that he shall go. | |
| FALSTAFF | Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion and him | |
| | the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may | 145 |
| | move and what he hears may be believed, that the | |
| | true prince may, for recreation sake, prove a false | |
| | thief; for the poor abuses of the time want | |
| | countenance. Farewell: you shall find me in Eastcheap. | |
| PRINCE HENRY | Farewell, thou latter spring! farewell, All-hallown summer! | 150 |
| | Exit Falstaff | |
| POINS | Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us | |
| | to-morrow: I have a jest to execute that I cannot | |
| | manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto and Gadshill | |
| | shall rob those men that we have already waylaid: | |
| | yourself and I will not be there; and when they | 155 |
| | have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut | |
| | this head off from my shoulders. | |
| PRINCE HENRY | How shall we part with them in setting forth? | |
| POINS | Why, we will set forth before or after them, and | |
| | appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at | 160 |
| | our pleasure to fail, and then will they adventure | |
| | upon the exploit themselves; which they shall have | |
| | no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them. | |
| PRINCE HENRY | Yea, but 'tis like that they will know us by our | |
| | horses, by our habits and by every other | 165 |
| | appointment, to be ourselves. | |
| POINS | Tut! our horses they shall not see: I'll tie them | |
| | in the wood; our vizards we will change after we | |
| | leave them: and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram | |
| | for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments. | 170 |
| PRINCE HENRY | Yea, but I doubt they will be too hard for us. | |
| POINS | Well, for two of them, I know them to be as | |
| | true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the | |
| | third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I'll | |
| | forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the | 175 |
| | incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will | |
| | tell us when we meet at supper: how thirty, at | |
| | least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what | |
| | extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this | |
| | lies the jest. | 180 |
| PRINCE HENRY | Well, I'll go with thee: provide us all things | |
| | necessary and meet me to-morrow night in Eastcheap; | |
| | there I'll sup. Farewell. | |
| POINS | Farewell, my lord. | |
| | Exit Poins | |
| PRINCE HENRY | I know you all, and will awhile uphold | 185 |
| | The unyoked humour of your idleness: | |
| | Yet herein will I imitate the sun, | |
| | Who doth permit the base contagious clouds | |
| | To smother up his beauty from the world, | |
| | That, when he please again to be himself, | 190 |
| | Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at, | |
| | By breaking through the foul and ugly mists | |
| | Of vapours that did seem to strangle him. | |
| | If all the year were playing holidays, | |
| | To sport would be as tedious as to work; | 195 |
| | But when they seldom come, they wish'd for come, | |
| | And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. | |
| | So, when this loose behavior I throw off | |
| | And pay the debt I never promised, | |
| | By how much better than my word I am, | 200 |
| | By so much shall I falsify men's hopes; | |
| | And like bright metal on a sullen ground, | |
| | My reformation, glittering o'er my fault, | |
| | Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes | |
| | Than that which hath no foil to set it off. | 205 |
| | I'll so offend, to make offence a skill; | |
| | Redeeming time when men think least I will. | |
| | Exit | |
